


Light, Fluffy, Wholesome Goodness

by embuffalo



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Food, i mean it's mostly just a bizarre one shot, more or less, post New Hope, so i don't think timing really matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embuffalo/pseuds/embuffalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendship, friendship, what a perfect blendship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light, Fluffy, Wholesome Goodness

Leena stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes onto the olive-green plates on the counter next to her. She put three pancakes on a plate and held it out to her side.

Pete, who had been hovering next to Leena, took the plate from her.

“Pete, go sit down,” Leena said as she ladled more batter onto the griddle. “The pancakes will be made whether you stand there or not.”

Backing out of the kitchen with the plate in one hand, Pete said, “And that’s why you can never leave. I need my pancakes. I’m a growing boy.”

“You could learn to make your own pancakes,” Leena called after him. “You are a grown man.”

Claudia slipped past Pete in the doorway and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Taking her own plate of pancakes from Leena, Claudia asked Pete, “Didn’t Myka teach you like a year ago? You told her she had to buy you pancakes for a year when you guys were trying to survive H.G. being evil back in Warehouse 2 and then there was some morning that she was trying to teach you to cook. I remember there being pancake batter everywhere.”

Leena nodded, pointing her spatula at the ceiling. “There are still stains.”

“Yeah,” Claudia said, setting her breakfast down on the dining room table. “You guys did smell pretty yeasty after that. Myka took at least three showers to get the batter out of her hair.”

Pete was drizzling syrup on his pancakes. “It didn’t stick.”

“The learning? Or the yeasty smell?” Claudia asked, sitting down.

“Both.” Pete shoved an entire pancake into his mouth. Chewing, he inquired, “Claudia, can you make pancakes? In case Leena leaves?”

“Dude.” Claudia raised an eyebrow. “I was deemed sane enough to do chores at the ward and let me tell you, there were a lot of meal shifts. I can make pancakes for a couple dozen.”

“Claud, I could eat a couple dozen pancakes all by myself.” Pete had cleared his plate of pancakes and was now licking it clean. Between licks, he said, “There wouldn’t be enough left for you, or Artie, or Myka. Does Myka even eat pancakes? I never see her eating breakfast because she usually gets up freaky early. And when I see her eat, it’s, like, bird food.”

“She eats granola, Pete.” Pete nodded.

“Bird food. Leena, are there any more pancakes?”

“Of course, Pete,” Leena said.

Pete jogged into the kitchen and took the plate from Leena. He smooched her cheek before folding two pancakes directly into his mouth. “Where is Myka, anyways?” he asked Claudia, returning to his seat.

“We-e-e-e-ll.” Claudia said, pursing her lips. She shifted in her chair and steepled her fingers. “You know Myka has had kind of a rough time these past few days.”

“Yeah, we all have.”

“Myka has had… a little more of a hard time than the rest of us. You know, the whole life-threatening chess game, the being-tied-together-with-HG thing, and other stuff…”

“The H.G. thing, period,” Leena commented from the kitchen.

“The H.G. thing,” Claudia repeated.

“H.G. screwed all of us.” Pete looked confused.

“Not really the best verb to use,” Claudia said under her breath. Leena, entering the dining room with a plate stacked with pancakes, gave Claudia a somewhat disapproving glance.

Sipping tea from a mug, Leena said, “But Myka more so. Myka and H.G. were talking a lot last night and I don’t know what all Helena, managed to say, but--”

“Let’s just say I bet Myka’s sleeping in,” Claudia jumped in.

“You know what?” Pete said. “I bet Myka would love some pancakes.” He picked up a plate of pancakes and plucked a flower from the vase on the dining room table. As he headed towards the stairs, he told Leena and Claudia, “Breakfast in bed for our lady Ophelia.”

Claudia cried “Shit!” and leapt up, sprinting after Pete.

He was softly opening Myka’s door by the time Claudia reached the top of the stairs, puffing slightly. Pete tiptoed into the room, Claudia on his heels. The room still had its curtains drawn, dark despite the morning sunshine that flooded through the rest of the B&B.

“Crap!” Pete yelled, the plate flinging out of his grasp. Claudia lunged for the plate and caught it, but the pancakes landed on Myka and H.G., who were both occupying Myka’s bed, Myka’s arm around H.G.’s waist. Both women were thankfully dressed.

Pete was flushing bright pink. Claudia was blushing slightly less, her expression more amused than Pete’s disbelief.

H.G. stirred, twisting to sleepily kiss Myka before settling back down under the covers. Myka, a pancake on her forehead, smiled under H.G.’s touch, eyes closed. When she opened her eyes she blinked a few times, seeing Pete and Claudia.

“Pete!” she cried, quickly sitting up. The pancake that had been on her forehead fell into her lap. “What the hell are you doing? Why are there pancakes everywhere?” She swung her legs out of her bed, yanking on flannel pajama bottoms.

“Oh, so I get the blame,” Pete said. “Even though Claudia’s standing right here too.”

“Well, whose idea was this?” Myka asked, rather vocal and angry for someone who had just woken up.

Pete sighed. “It was mine.”

H.G. pushed herself up as well. She reached for the pancakes strewn across the bed, assembling them into a neat stack. She laughed, “I’m sure it was well-meaning, dear.”

Myka glared in turn at the other three people in her room. “Helena, you’re not helping. Pete, Claudia, why are there pancakes on my bed?”

“I wanted you to… um…” Pete looked at Claudia for assistance.

“…feel safe and warm?” Claudia offered, a giggle forcing its way out of her mouth.

“Safe and warm. Yes.” Pete nodded. “Because pancakes are warm. And they make you feel safe.”

“See?” H.G. said. “It was well-intentioned. They only wanted to keep you safe and warm. Isn’t that lovely, Myka?”

Myka punched Pete. Hard. Pete ran from the room, Myka close on his heels.

Claudia smiled apologetically at H.G. “Sorry to interrupt your morning,” she said, darting out of the room.

H.G. listened to the noise of the other agents, Pete’s cries of “uncle!” and Claudia, amidst laughter, telling Myka to ease up enough on Pete that Artie wouldn’t ground her.

H.G. shrugged, and started eating the pancakes.

**Author's Note:**

> For a certain anon on tumblr and an OTP prompt about putting pancakes on faces. Thanks to TheRangress for beta'ing and helping with my title-block.


End file.
